LoverAdvisor Spike
by Angelicorn
Summary: Just try it! A typical but cute piece of WillowSpike gorgeousness.


Hi! This is my first venture into the Buffyverse… be gentle with me! Hehe, I love these two together…   
but if anyone's seen what I've just seen on the actual show, please help to have 'words' with our dear   
friend Joss and thoroughly convince him of the error of his ways. Why on the goddess' greeny   
coloured Earth would Spike even consider going after Buffy when Willow's around? I'm frankly   
stumped. And saddened.  
  
After that bit of controversiality, here's my little story. Please review, even if you just want to tell me   
how crap I am! I'll just go and hide in a corner somewhere.  
  
  
  
  
  
From far away, he could see the glow of warm candlelight in her window. He was a moth blinded to   
every other light in the thronging town. How long it had been since he'd seen that light!  
  
Here was her windowsill. He crouched upon it, feather-light, peering inside, checking that all was as it   
should be…  
  
Willow lay curled like an infant, her bedsheets tangled about her, her autumn-leaf hair spread wide   
upon her pillow. The room looked bare, unused; not surprising. Why should a college student fill her   
old bedroom with her trinkets and precious things, when she was only home for the weekend? Behind   
the door, an open suitcase from which spilt a fluffy sweater and several books. On the shelf, a small   
worn teddy bear, a packet of spidery dried herbs, and the fat white candle whose light had beckoned   
him.  
  
The window was open, he realised when a stray gust of wind puffed the light gauzy curtain into his   
face. He didn't stir or make a sound. After all, he didn't want to wake her. When he fell back in, he   
gently reached after it: an impenetrable barrier met his hand some ten or twelve inches from the sill's   
outer edge. Enough to sit, barely.  
  
He hopped up, sitting along the sill's edge and letting his shoulder rest on the barrier. He preferred her   
dorm room. The invitation could have been very convenient, had the Slayer not been there so   
constantly. Propping his foot against the other side of the windowframe and letting his other leg dangle   
down the wall, he watched her sleeping form.  
  
Presently he reached into the pocket of his duster, pulling out a sketchpad and pencil stub. She was so   
beautiful in sleep. Not his usual style, but he had to try to capture that, on paper if no other way.  
  
His pencil moved swiftly over the paper. One sketch, two, three emerged under his studious hand. A   
poor imitation of her splendour. What lead on paper could match the tossed flame of her hair, the child-  
woman grace of her slender leg hooking above her white linen sheet, the perfect line of her throat? He   
moved to crumple the drawings, but didn't.  
  
He heard a tiny noise from her, saw her forehead crease, and she pulled into a tighter knot. Unpleasant   
dreams? Unable to keep his peace any longer, her observer spoke.  
  
"Red, love… hush, my pet, dream sweet."  
  
Willow tensed, then stretched out languidly. A low unintelligible mumble slipped from her throat.  
  
Had it been his voice that caused her to relax so? The notion made him smile. He threaded more words   
into the air. "Red, love… Red."  
  
"Spike?" she asked sleepily.  
  
He blinked. Was she asleep or not? "It's me, pet. Can I come in?"  
  
Turning, moaning softly, her answer floated out to him… "ngh… Spike… c'm here."  
  
A wave of glee flooded through him at those words. He instantly slipped into the room, his heavy boots   
silent as he, wraith-like, crossed her floor. He kicked them off- then, smiling, nudged them beneath her   
bed with his toe. His heavy duster fell next to them.  
  
Ever so gently, he peeled the sheet away from her, soothing her shiver of cold with a tender 'sh'. Only   
a silken nightie graced her sleeping form.  
  
She seemed to sense his presence, tossing and muttering restlessly. "Spike?… are you there?"  
  
"I'm here, pet," he murmured into her ear, lying behind her, feeling his cold body warming with the   
heat of hers so near.  
  
When he touched her shoulder, ran his hand down her arm, she sighed and relaxed into the caress. He   
felt his undead heart thunder in happiness that she should so accept his touch. He moved his hand back   
up to her shoulder and down again, this time bringing the thin strap of her nightie with it, baring her   
shoulder. He placed a single kiss on that smooth plane, feeling the muscles tense and relax under his   
cold lips.  
  
His hand, questing, welcome, moved along her side. He paused to appreciate the fit of his hand in her   
waist, then travelled further, skimming over her hip, lingering on her thigh, tracing back up to spread   
his long fingers over the slight feminine swell of her stomach.  
  
The blood-smell rising from the large vein in her throat clamoured for his attention, and he snuggled   
his face into the side of her neck. He wanted, so very badly, to taste of her… He silently cursed the   
chip.  
  
"Oh, Spike," she moaned, leaning back against him. The press of her body- Red's body- on his made   
Spike gasp with lust. Oh, to lose himself within her! But no. Not like this. Not when she was sleeping,   
or thought she was.  
  
Something else, then. A slow grin tugged up the side of his mouth. He lightly flicked his tongue along   
her neck, making her shiver.  
  
His hand moved down, and then up again, and when it resumed its former resting place it was on soft   
skin, silk rustling. Again he kissed her neck. He closed his eyes, feeling his excitement grow as he   
cupped her firm heavy breast, stroking and rubbing until her breath quickened. Then, his mouth hot on   
her throat, her body quivering at his touch, he traced his teasing hand lower, lower, lower…  
  
Green eyes snapped open at such an intimate touch, yet there was still the fog of sleep over them. She   
gasped and cried out as his two fingers sank deep in her.  
  
Under his tender ministrations, Willow's low cries filled the air. Slowly at first, then with growing   
urgency, she moved against his hand, meeting his thrusting fingers with her own need until her   
shuddering gasp told Spike that she had reached her finish.  
  
The vampire smiled proudly. He'd used only two fingers and a thumb, but her satisfaction was evident   
in the complete relaxation of her body, the scent of repletion tangible only to an immortal such as   
himself.  
  
"Oh, Spike," she breathed.  
  
He nuzzled her neck. "Love, Red, pet. My precious little morsel."  
  
Settling back against him with a contented sigh, Willow murmured, "I like this. This is nice, Spike."  
  
"Good," he chuckled huskily. He rested his hand on her stomach once more, liking the way that felt.  
  
"Why do I keep having these dreams?" she asked softly. "I don't understand this. I should be dreaming   
about Oz, or Tara."  
  
Spike blinked. She was wide awake, but thought she was dreaming- and had been dreaming about him   
before. A rush of hope welled up within him. He recognised the feeling, and knew that he had really   
fallen for her.  
  
"Spike?"  
  
"I'm here, love," he reassured her, placing a kiss on her shoulder. "It's obvious to me that you're   
having strong feelings for me, and because you're nervous, you do what you want to do here in your   
dreams where it's nice and safe."  
  
She laid her hand over his. "You mean, I'm attracted to you?"  
  
"Why else would you dream that I come in here and make you feel like that?"  
  
"Oh, I don't know, Spike. Maybe my head's just messed up." Sighing, she laced her fingers through   
his. "I mean, God knows, you're cute enough and all, but you're a baddie! You'd kill us all if you   
could."  
  
"I'd never kill you, Red," he whispered into her ear. "But that's part of the attraction. You want the   
thrill of danger you'd have from being my lover. To be lying here in my arms, not knowing whether I'd   
shag you senseless or suck you dry."  
  
Willow shrugged. "I guess that's part of it."  
  
"So tell me about the other dreams you've had."  
  
"You should know all about them. You were there, after all."  
  
He nibbled her neck. "Tell me."  
  
"I never needed to tell you before."  
  
Spike sighed. "Trust me, love. I'm an all-new dream Spike. I'm lover-adviser Spike. Tell me about this   
other Spike, or I might start getting jealous."  
  
Giggling, she began. "Oh, I've been having this dream over the last few weeks. Sort of an ongoing   
dream. The first time, I was on patrol with Buffy, and while she was fighting four or five vamps, you   
snuck up behind me and grabbed me around the mouth. You dragged me behind a bush and started   
kissing me and stuff, and then you bit me!"  
  
"And?" he urged.  
  
"And… I woke up."  
  
Another wet kiss on her neck. "Tell me the next one."  
  
She was playing with his fingers. "Well, I fell asleep in a lecture, but I didn't realise I was asleep. You   
came in the door, walked over to me, and started kissing me. In front of the whole class. Buffy was   
right next to us. She tried to push you away from me, but you barely noticed. You pulled me out of my   
desk and then sat me on the edge of it. I was wrapping myself around you. You burst right through our   
clothes and started making love to me, right there, in front of everybody. I didn't care about them   
watching, it was glorious. But I woke up halfway through. Goddess, I was lucky I'd slept quietly!"  
  
Spike swallowed. "Uh- yeah."  
  
Willow grinned secretly to herself. She could feel his arousal. Hugely more daring in a dream than she   
would be in real life, the redhead pushed her hips back into his, chuckling at the stifled moan she   
received in reply. The hand on her stomach tensed.  
  
"So," the vampire ventured cautiously. "That good, huh?"  
  
"Mmm."  
  
"And the rest, the same?"  
  
"Well… I'd always be doing something normal, like shopping or lunch or whatever, and you'd turn up,   
and half the time you'd hurt me, and the other half we'd… you know… do it."  
  
He nipped at her earlobe.  
  
"Last night you killed me. I was walking down the street. I saw you coming. You walked right up to   
me without looking at me, and then you reached over and broke my neck with a flick of your hand."   
She shuddered. Then, roughly, she rolled to face him.  
  
Spike caressed her cheek lovingly, meeting her accusing eyes without fear. "Pet, if I was gonna kill   
you, I'd be a lot more personal about it. And I wouldn't let you stay dead, no sodding way."  
  
"That's supposed to reassure me?"  
  
Wrapping an arm around her, he pulled her closer. His undead body was warming comfortably. "No   
fear, love."  
  
She drew even closer to him, clinging tightly to his cool, lanky frame. "Oh, Spike. I wish this was   
real."  
  
Stroking her hair, he didn't answer.  
  
"Hmm… I don't suppose… you have any sort of, I don't know, connection with the real Spike?"  
  
He sighed. "Well, love, it's a tricky thing. I mean, I am pretty much a figment of your imagination.   
But, I'm real enough that I have some idea what's going on. So ask me."  
  
"How do you feel about me?" she whispered.  
  
Spike thoughtfully ran his hand along her side. "I think… the real Spike has only just figured out, these   
last few weeks, that Drusilla wasn't the be-all end-all of my unlife. I've been, well, fascinated with you   
since I first saw you couple years ago. Always thought you were one hot chick. Never could believe   
your Scooby pals didn't seem to see it."  
  
"You think I'm a hot chick?" Willow marvelled.  
  
"Nah, pretty dull, really," he grinned teasingly, brushing his lips over hers.  
  
She kissed him back just as lightly. Their legs were tangled loosely together. "So you like my looks."  
  
"Yeah. I'd shag you just for that. But, pet, that's not all by half." From her relieved smile, he knew that   
telling her this was a good idea. He kissed her more deeply. "I'm starting to fall in love with you.   
Madly."  
  
"You're just saying that." The look in her eyes- disbelief, hope, warmth- was enough to make him   
smile.  
  
Spike kissed her, as slowly, tenderly, passionately and luxuriantly as he wanted to make love to her.   
"Willow, my dearest love, I don't muck about with such powers. I'd never say that if I didn't mean it."  
  
"Pinch me," she breathed. Her thumb stroking his cheek was trembling.  
  
He turned his head slightly, dragging her hand across his face; nipped sharply at the fleshy part of her   
thumb, wincing in pain, and lapped away the few drops of blood that fell. "Will that do, love?" he   
asked huskily.  
  
He looked up at her shocked gasp. Those sea-green eyes were now dark with anger and betrayal. "I'm   
not asleep."  
  
Ruefully, he shook his head.  
  
Willow pushed him fiercely away, watching him fall from the bed in an undignified tangle of limbs. "I   
revoke my invitation!" she shouted, rising up from her bed like a wrathful goddess, her arm outflung.   
"I Cast Thee OUT!"  
  
From most people, this would only make Spike mess himself with laughter. But Willow was a   
powerful witch. Her revocation had such force behind it that the vampire was physically expelled from   
the room, leaving a humorous Spike-shaped hole in the wall.  
  
  
  
Spike lay crumpled at the foot of a shed several blocks away, whimpering quietly. When the pain   
receded, he dragged himself to his feet, staring blankly towards where he could still sense her irate   
presence. Tears tracked slowly down his upturned face. He spun on his heel and disappeared into the   
night.  
  
  
  
Shivering, Willow raked her hands through her hair. That was real. Real live Spike had been in her   
room, whispering gentle words of advice to her, bringing her to orgasm with his fingers.  
  
"Creep," she muttered.  
  
Spying his coat on the floor- and his boots under the bed- she picked them all up and carried them to   
the window. One-two, the boots thumped down onto the street. The coat was about to follow them,   
when a sketchpad fell from the pocket. The curious witch picked it up and looked through it.  
  
She almost dropped it in surprise. It was a wonderfully rendered sketch of herself. She assumed Spike   
must have drawn it from the window. Another one, this one zoomed in a bit, showing her head and   
shoulders, and her hands curled together like sleeping birds. The third one was a close-up; her lips   
drawn in loving detail, the smooth line of her jaw, the carefully shaded contours of her throat.  
  
This last picture was so sensuous and tender that she stood, staring at it, for several long minutes.  
  
He said he was falling in love with me.  
  
He called me his dearest love.  
  
A secret smile on her lips, she tucked the sketchpad into her suitcase.  
  
"Spike," she said to the empty air, "You're still welcome in my dorm room. I'll see you tomorrow   
night."  
  
  
  
"Well, I gotta say, I'm sorta relieved."  
  
Willow shrugged uneasily. "It just wasn't working out. I mean, normally, if you come back from being   
away, and somebody… well, your someone special, is there to meet you straight away, you should be   
happy, right?"  
  
Adjusting the strap of the sportsbag that carried her Slayer gear, Buffy nodded.  
  
"But I wasn't. I was sorta annoyed, and I didn't want her anywhere near me. Like, it's not Tara's fault   
or anything, I just… don't. She was pretty upset over it, and I feel bad about that, but if I don't have   
those feelings anymore, it wouldn't be fair to pretend I did… and I'm babbling. I'll stop now."  
  
"You're not babbling, Wills. It's important stuff, you need to talk about it," Buffy reassured her. "So is   
there someone else? Or…" She noticed Willow's gaze wander away, and took that as an answer. She   
grabbed her friend's hands, stopping them in their tracks. "Who is it? What happened? Spill!"  
  
Willow flashed her a sly grin. "Sorry, Buffy. I can't tell you yet. I have to see how this thing works out   
before I can talk about it."  
  
For the next several minutes, all the way up to Giles' door, Buffy tried to find out- and failed.  
  
  
  
Willow stepped in still wearing her secret smile, but quickly switched to her greeting-friends smile. "Hi   
guys!" she called cheerily.  
  
"Oh… hello," Giles said absently, looking up from his cup of tea to flash a brief smile.  
  
Xander jumped up from his chair, giving her a quick fierce hug. "Survived your mum alright, Wills?"  
  
"Yeah," she nodded, "barely. She still thinks I'm an age group, though."  
  
"So," Buffy ventured, "Any terrible new fiends from the underworld we'll have to destroy, Giles?"  
  
He shrugged. "Not really. Everything seems fairly quiet at the moment. How's your patrolling been,   
Buffy?"  
  
"Oh… pretty boring. Dust two or three vamps every night, newbies, nothing too challenging. No   
biggie."  
  
Willow sat down, prepared for a couple of hours of hanging with her best friends… but something was   
missing. Spike should have been there. Goddess, she'd only seen him last night, and she was missing   
him so badly already.  
  
And, timely, one bleached-blond vampire walked in from the kitchen, grimacing as he sipped pig's   
blood from the now familiar novelty cup. "Hey, Slutty," he nodded to Buffy; walked past Willow and   
sat on the other side of the room. "Killed any of my buddies lately?"  
  
Willow blinked. He'd pointedly not looked at her. "Hi, Spike," she frowned.  
  
His mouth twitched, but that was as close to a response as he gave.  
  
Xander sat forward. "So guys, to continue with my story, there was this really old woman, she was like   
foul with the very few teeth and everything, she could have really used a breath mint…"  
  
Itching with annoyance and hurt, Willow sat through Xander's long and somewhat painful story.   
Finally, when he was done, she said, "Spike…"  
  
His head snapped around. "What, you wanna talk to me now, witch?"  
  
"Hey!" Buffy warned. "What's up your arse?"  
  
Spike stood, flinging his cup to the ground. A few drops of blood sank into the worn carpet. "To hell   
with this. I have to go kill something."  
  
As he put his hand to the door, Willow stood too. "That's not fair, Spike! Why…"  
  
He looked at her over his shoulder, his eyes shining with unshed tears. "Fuck you, Red."  
  
A stake appeared in Buffy's hand. "WHAT did you just say?"  
  
His ice-cold blue eyes didn't leave Willow's, though he shook his head bitterly. "Fuck you."  
  
Willow was deeply hurt- but he sounded shattered. A tap short of broken. Realising that shocked her   
enough that, when he fled out the door, she almost didn't follow.  
  
"I- I have to talk to him," she told Buffy, and ran after him.  
  
  
  
She caught him at the end of the street, grabbing his arm. Furious, the vampire spun to face her.  
  
"Leave me alone!"  
  
"I can't do that, Spike. I…"  
  
"Stop it!" he snarled. "Red, I told you I love you, and when you figured out I was for real, you pushed   
me away."  
  
Swallowing, she looked down. "I was frightened."  
  
His voice softened. "I can't help that I love you. I can't do anything about it. So I'm gonna take off,   
alright? This'd kill me to stay."  
  
Willow took his hand in hers. "Listen to me, Spike. I pushed you away because I was frightened. Not   
because I don't want you. You shocked me, and I got scared. Okay?"  
  
He touched a rueful hand to the back of his head. "Scared enough to bruise the shit out of me, and you   
should know how hard it is to bruise a vamp."  
  
"Oh, I'm sorry!" The redhead closed her eyes and murmured a few words, gently touching Spike's   
hair.  
  
"Wha?" he blinked, confused, as a few pale blue sparkles drifted from her fingertips to his wounds,   
healing them a good deal.  
  
"Well, it was my magic that hurt you, so my magic should help you heal. Right?" She smiled up at him   
warmly.  
  
Spike grimaced, pulling away. "I can't handle this, Red."  
  
Taking his hands back, she sighed, "Didn't you hear a word I said? Spike, I don't hate you. I- I like   
you. I like you a lot." A blush heated her cheeks. "I don't want you to go anywhere."  
  
He stared at her wordlessly- then swept her up in his powerful embrace, swinging her round and round   
with an exuberant shout, then pulling her close for a kiss.  
  
Willow kissed him back fiercely.  
  
A few moments later, when each pulled back a little, Willow was surprised to see the tears trickling   
down Spike's cheek. She touched one with a tender smile.  
  
Realising that he was, indeed, weeping from relief and happiness, Spike let her go and ran away in   
mortified embarrassment.  
  
Willow grinned.  
  
She knew he'd be back.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
Tell me what you thought! Please! Or no more (and there is another one coming :- a very evil and   
funny other one, not a sequel though) so pppllleeeaaassseee…?  



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